I didn’t want to lose her.
Fucking crazy considering I didn’t have her.
Orion reached the pinnacle first. “Don’t get caught,” he said before launching himself into the air and morphing into his Dreki form.
Get caught. As if.
I took to the air after him.
* * *
I was stealing from my own hoard. A collection of fantastical and valuable items we, the Dreki, had found and brought together. Whose idea had it been to give the keys to our kingdom to the mageri? Anara must have had a reason. But that didn’t matter right now, because I needed to find the flame.
The mageri tower was the most elaborate building in the fortress grounds. Gilded with gold and silver, the insides were filled with paintings and art from the time before. A library on each level, because reading was their main pastime. I suppose when fucking was out of the question, reading was the next best thing. Did they read about fucking?
Poor bastards. If the rumors were true, mageri had no cocks. They didn’t fuck and they didn’t procreate. They just…were.
It fucked with my brain to think about it, but they were closed-lipped about their genesis. That was something we needed to fix, soon. If there was a traitor in their ranks, then knowing as much as possible about the mageri, including how they came to be, could prove invaluable to rooting out the bastard and ending his life.
It was quiet at this time of night. The mageri would be in the upper levels in their residences sleeping. Primian usually kept vigil at night, reading or transcribing something or other in the communal chamber with vaulted ceilings they used for ceremonies and celebrations. We’d been bound to Anara in that room.
I’d been optimistic that day. I’d admired her, worshipped her, and with one order she’d killed any love in my heart for her. She’d vowed never to use her power to compel us to do her will and she’d broken that vow.
At least a mating didn’t come with the same stipulations.
I slipped down several flights of stairs and into the basement level, then further still. The hoard was far below the earth, a cavern hewn from obsidian rock studded with gold. How long had it been since I’d visited it?
Too long.
The key never left my person, cleverly disguised as the band to my signet ring. I pulled the ring off, unclipped the band, and pulled it straight to create the key. A perfect copy of the original that hung around Primian’s neck.
It turned easily in the lock and then the seal in the door popped with a soft hiss. I slipped inside, my night vision blooming to life in the deep gloom.
Gold was piled to the left and silver to the right. Plates and goblets and vases. Chests filled with coins and gems and there, right in front of me, was a pedestal holding the flame. It burned steadily inside its lantern-like structure. It never went out. It was the last gift from the old gods to the dragon queen. A guide for her to choose her mate.
Instead she’d chosen not to use it, but Anya, the hybrid, was willing to do whatever it took to protect this world. Anara could have done this too. Chosen using the flame. The excuse about imbalance was fucking bullshit. Truth was she hadn’t wanted us, any of us. She’d chosen a human. But Anya…Anya knew what needed to be done.
Respect?
Yes, I could respect her for that.
I plucked the lantern from the pedestal and got the fuck out of the hoard chamber.
Five minutes later and I was almost out. I paused in the arch leading out of the stairwell, checking the moonlit corridor for occupants. The nearest pinnacle was a few meters to my left.
Coast clear, I stepped out and froze as a figure rushed toward me from the right.
Lorance froze, his eyes going wide as they fell on the lantern in my hands. He opened his mouth to scream or yell or maybe just ask me what the fuck I was doing with the flame, but my fist met his face, knocking him out cold before he could make a sound.
He’d live.
For now.
“Sorry, Lorance. But you’re coming with me.”
Chapter Twenty-One
ANYA
Lorance sat propped up against the wall, his hands bound behind his back.
“What if he wakes up and does some mageri magick?” Dante said. “He could be the spy for all we know.”
The mageri looked pale and small crumpled on the floor. He’d saved Vesper’s and my life in the Outlands. Did traitors do that kind of stuff?
“I don’t think he is, but best be on the safe side and get this over with.” I focused on the lantern Vesper had placed on a table Dante had dragged into the center of the room.
A pale yellow flame flickered inside the glass.
“What now?”
Orion answered. “You need to place your hand on the lantern so it can know you, and then you’ll step back and we’ll touch the lantern. The flame will rise out of the glass and hover over the Dreki it chooses as your mate.”
Sounded simple enough, so why were wild horses galloping in my chest? I blew out a breath and touched the lantern. The flame flared bright orange, filling the lantern with fire.
“I think we can safely assume that registered,” Vesper drawled. “Even with your suppressor on.”
“You can let go now, Anya,” Orion said.
I stepped back and the three lords placed their fingers on the lantern. The orange fire churned and throbbed and then the flame surged out of the lantern. It rose as high as their shoulders and hovered. It flickered toward Dante and turned crimson and my heart skipped a beat, but then it changed course toward Vesper, turning black, and my stomach clenched. Really? Finally, it rushed toward Orion, turning blue as it went. I met his eyes in shock. The Dreki I barely knew?
But wait, the damn thing was back in the middle, orange
